the tale of my ragged jeans...

I have got a ragged jeans...
It bore several marks of strife and tears...
And lipmarks too...
Marks brownish red...
That of a smooch perhaps...
College days' hangouts...
Carnival days...
Days of sitting together with friends...on highway dhabas...
Of loitering around aimless...
Days of makeshift tents outside a big stadia...
Days which came and went like flipping of coins and fate...

My jeans ragged and torn at ankles...
Bear it all...
Stories...of love, lust, venom and wine...
Of roses and thorns...
My jeans...
Tell me stories...

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